西红柿 第12期

翻译：寒星

人总在经历某些事情后才懂得珍惜身边的一切。如果你不明白他人的此种举动，试着去理解，去沟通，拨开遮盖蓝天的阴云，便会发现everything has a reason。爱可以不需要理由，也能有一万个理由；爱可以激荡热烈，也可以平淡如水――时光可变，世界可变，不变的是所爱的人永远在你心中。本文选自《美国最佳短篇小说（卷八）》，有删减。

Mother let no one touch the tomatoes. “Why” was a mystery to me. I watched her working in the tomato patch[小块地]. Her sun-browned hands seemed to touch each plant, each green leaf lovingly, as if it were a newborn child. I was worried. She spent so much time in the hot sun. I decided to speak to her about it. This was not easy. Since father’s death, she liked to be alone. She was withdrawn[孤独的] most of the time.

“Mother?” I asked, “Why do you tire yourself out like a young farmhand? You have plenty of help.”

“You must not worry about me, Jimmy!” She walked beside me with slow careful steps. “You have your law studies to worry about. Besides, what do you know about running a farm?”

“Well, not much, I guess.” My arm stiffened[僵硬].

She must have sensed that I was hurt, because she quickly talked about something else.

She went to the sink and washed her red tomato-colored hands. “The tomatoes are good this year, Jimmy, big and firm and lots of them ripe already.”

“Yes, I saw them. And I’ve seen you out in that field every day since the funeral[葬礼]. Why don’t you let the help worry about the tomatoes, you have enough to do in the house.”

She turned and looked at me. “Jimmy,” she said firmly, “don’t interfere with[干涉] my work on the farm, I know you mean well. But there is so little you understand about things. I’m trying to learn to live with my loneliness, Jimmy. I must do it in my own way.” She was close to tears. I said nothing more.

My thoughts were all mixed up. Every attempt I made to understand her problem only drove us further apart. I’d never been a part of the farm really. Father gave up trying to teach me how to farm early in my life. He saw how much I loved books.

I felt bad and left the kitchen and walked through the hallway and up the stairs to my room.

I kept wondering about mother. I was puzzled. Why did she give so much of herself to the tomatoes?

It was almost dinner-time when I went downstairs. Mother was not in the kitchen and dinner had not been started. The house was empty. I left the house and began to walk around the farm. The ground seemed strange under my feet. I tried to make myself realize that this was where I was born and grew up. But it was impossible. The farm seemed to be part of someone else’s life, someone I knew, but who was not me.

I walked toward the tomato patch. I knew where mother was. She was at the farthest end of the patch, too far from the house for me to have seen her before. A large basket of tomatoes lay on the ground. She was on her knees beside it, her face was buried in her hands, her body was shaking. She looked small,

smaller than she usually did. I went to her. When she realized she was not alone, she began to wipe her eyes in shame.

“I know I’m interfering again, mother,” I said softly, “but I must know how I can help. Please tell me why you spend all your time out here when it makes you so unhappy?” She was silent for a long time.

“Jimmy,” she said finally, not looking at me but staring straight ahead, “your father planted these tomatoes.”

“Father? But he was so ill.” She put out a hand, gently touching the bush in front of her. “He was too ill to work. But he would not let the walls of a sickroom[病房] shut him in and smother[使窒息] him to death. He loved the fresh air and sun and working in the ground. You could not stop him from doing something. I tried to talk him out of it and he promised not to tire himself. And so, every day he came out and planted a few tomato seeds. And these plants are the only part of the crop that was his. I feel they’re the only part of him I have left still living. And they will be gone at the end of the summer.”

I got on my knees beside her and put her head on my shoulder. “I regret not taking more of an interest, I feel so unnecessary. I want to spend part of my time here even after I begin working as a lawyer. Think you could teach me a little about farming?”She did not answer.

“It sounds foolish to talk this way after all these years, doesn’t it? But mother, there is more of father still living in these tomatoes. You have to realize that. There’s a part of father that will live after this summer, and the next.”

Slowly, she drew away from me. Our eyes met and a change came over her face. Her expression showed surprise at what I’d said, she touched my cheek. “Jimmy,” she cried, “Oh Jimmy, I’m such an old fool.” And she stood up and with the youthful[年轻的] energy I always remember in her, got her basket before I could take it and walked sharply ahead of me to the house.

Later, at the dinner table while pouring me a second cup of coffee, she said, “You know Jimmy, the profit on tomatoes is higher all the time. Next year, I think I’ll have a bigger and better crop.” She smiled over the coffee pot. “If you spend your vacation here, would you like to help with it?”

母亲不让任何人碰那些西红柿。对此我百思不得其解。我看着她在西红柿田里忙碌：她那双被太阳晒黑的手着每一株植物，每一片绿叶，就像在抚摸一个个新生婴儿。我很担忧――她在热辣辣的太阳底下呆太久了。我决定劝劝她，可这并不容易。自从父亲去世后，她总喜欢独处，大部分时间都是自己一个人

“母亲，”我问道，“为什么你要像年轻农工那样把自己累坏呢？我大家都可以帮你。”

“你不必担心我，吉米！”她缓慢、小心地走在我身旁。“你还有法学的功课要操心呢。而且，你也不懂务农吧？”

“确实懂得不多，我想。”我的手臂僵硬了。她肯定发现我受到了伤害，因为她很快又谈到其他事情上去。

她到水槽冲洗被西红柿染红的双手。“今年的西红柿长得很好，吉米，肥美肉实，很多已经成熟了。”

“是的，我看到了。我也看到自从葬礼之后，你每天都在那块地里干活。为什么不让帮工照料那些西红柿呢？屋里的活儿已经够你忙的了。”

她转过头来看着我。“吉米，”她坚定地说，“不要干涉我在农场里的活儿，我知道你是为我好，但你还不谙世事。吉米，我正努力去应对孤独的生活，我必须用我自己的方式。”她几乎要哭出来。我不再说话了。

我思绪万千。我越努力尝试去了解她，结果却是我们更加疏远。我确实不了解农活。小时候父亲就已经放弃教我如何务农。他知道我有多么爱读书。

我的心情很糟，离开厨房，沿着走廊踏上楼梯，回到自己的房间。我一直想着母亲的事，感到非常迷惑。为什么她要为那些西红柿付出这么多？

我下楼时已经差不多是晚饭时间了。母亲不在厨房里，晚饭还没开始。整个屋子空荡荡的。我走出厨房到农场散步。脚下的土地显得很陌生。我试着让自己认同这是我出生和成长的地方，然而只是徒劳。农场像是其他人生活的一部分，一个我认识的人，但并不是我。

我朝西红柿田走去。我知道母亲在哪里。她正在那块田的最远处。那地方离房子太远了，我之前没望到她。装满了西红柿的大篮子放在地上。她就跪在篮子旁，双手捂着脸，身子在颤抖。她看起来很瘦小，比平常要瘦小得多。我走向她。当她意识到有人来了时，便难堪地用手抹掉眼泪。

“我知道我又打扰你了，母亲。”我轻声说，“但我必须知道自己能做点什么。请告诉我为什么它让你这么伤心，你仍要把全部时间花在它上面？”她沉默了很久。

“吉米，”她终于开口了，没有看着我，而是直盯着前方，“你父亲亲手种下了这些西红柿。”

“父亲？可他那时病得很重啊。”她伸出手，温柔地着跟前的苗丛。“他病得很重，不能工作。但他决不会让病房的墙壁将他困住，让他窒息而死。他热爱清新的空气和阳光，也热爱在田里干活。你阻止不了他。我试着劝他不要这么做，但他保证不会让自己过于劳累。就这样，每天他都会出来种下一些西红柿种子――这些植物是庄稼里仅属于他的一部分。我觉得这是我所拥有的、还活着的他的一部分了；而夏天过后，它们便会消逝。”

我跪在她旁边，将她的头靠到我的肩膀上。“我真后悔没有把它当一回事，觉得做这些很多余。我想在这儿度过余暇，即便是当上律师之后。你能教我点务农的事情吗？”她没有回答。

“过了这么多年后才这么说很可笑吧？可是母亲，这些西红柿里面有更多父亲的回忆。你要意识到这一点。属于父亲的回忆会在这个夏天驻足停留，还有接下来的每一个夏天。”

她慢慢地移开了身子。我们目光相遇，她的脸色也改变了。听见我的话，她现出惊奇的神色，抚着我的脸颊。“吉米，”她喊道，“噢，吉米，我真是个老糊涂。”她站起身子，带着我记忆中的那种青春活力，抢在我之前拎起篮子，箭步如飞地走回屋子。

后来，在饭桌上为我续斟咖啡时，她对我说：“你知道吗？吉米，西红柿的利润总在增长。下一年，我想我会拥有更大更好的庄稼群，”她提着咖啡壶微笑着。“如果你到时在这儿度假，你愿意帮忙吗？”